Liturgy Pacific is the on-line presence of Richard Geoffrey Leggett, Rector of Saint Faith's Anglican Church in Vancouver and Professor Emeritus of Liturgical Studies at Vancouver School of Theology. Here you will find sermons, comments on current Anglican and Lutheran affairs and reflections on the need for progressive orthodox Christians to re-claim our place on the theological stage.

On
the 21st of December 1981 I was ordained to the priesthood after six
months as a transitional deacon.In The
Episcopal Church the 21st of December is celebrated as the feast of
Saint Thomas.After all, it is the
shortest day of the year and, in some cultures, rituals were held on this day
to coax the sun to return and warm the earth in time for the spring planting.It seems a fitting day to remember a saint
who is sometimes called ‘doubting’ Thomas.

I
had been experiencing my own bout of doubt.My position on the staff of the diocesan office was a temporary measure
and the Bishop had been searching for a curacy. Just before my ordination, the word came that I was to become the
curate at Christ Church in Denver, one of the larger parishes with a
congregation that included ‘high church’ Anglicans, Evangelicals who wanted the
richness of Anglican liturgy and members of the so-called ‘charismatic’ movement.One of the constant challenges for the Rector
of Christ Church was maintaining a balance in the clergy staff and I was to represent the modern face of the ‘high church’ tradition.

As
it often happens in Anglican parishes, the newest member of the clergy staff,
especially if he or she is younger than the other clergy, is given
responsibility for the children and youth programmes.So one of my first responsibilities was the
preparation of a large group of teenagers for confirmation.

Christ
Church had a long history of lay involvement in the confirmation
programme.Married couples, young and
old, were recruited to be small group leaders.A detailed curriculum had been prepared with learning modules as well as
question and answer sessions.Most of
the learning modules were based on the memorization of certain facts and
teachings.

I
really liked the four couples who had volunteered to be mentors and I was
looking forward to working with them and the young people.But I hated, absolutely hated, the curriculum.Now don’t get me wrong.There is some value in learning about the
church’s traditions and practices; confirmation is simply not the place for
that kind of learning.Confirmation,
whether of younger or older people, is about exploring our faith and deciding
how we are going to live that faith in the world.In confirmation, those who were baptized as
infants or young children make a commitment to live their lives as baptized
members of the Christian community.We
choose to follow Christ and need to learn what following Christ really means for
me and for the community in which I live and what following Christ costs in
today’s society.

I
filed the curriculum away and drew up a new programme based on the promises of
the Baptismal Covenant, those eight, now nine, affirmations and promises we
make at baptisms and on those occasions when we all renew our commitment to
following the way of Jesus of Nazareth.

At
my first session with the teenagers, I asked them what they thought it meant to
say, ‘I believe in God the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth.’All of these kids were product of North
American education.They knew more about
science than I did at their age.They
were familiar with the theory of evolution and the ‘Big Bang’.Half of the group came from single-parent
families and of those families two-thirds were headed by the mother.I was not interested in those days with a
feminist critique of male-gendered language for God nor was I interested in
participating in the tiresome debates about whether belief in evolution
contradicts the witness of the Christian scriptures.I simply wanted them to think about how God
is and is not a father, to consider how our earthly fathers show and do not
show us the loving face of our Creator, to ponder not how the universe came
into existence but why it came into existence.

The
small group discussions were lively and the four couples thanked me for the
opportunity to talk with the kids about something important and relevant.There was no ‘fill in the blank’ answer
sheets as in previous years; there was only adults and young people talking
about their faith and about their uncertainties.That night I sent the kids home with an
assignment:Have the same discussion
with your parent or parents.

A
few days later the Rector called me into his office.He had been overwhelmed by telephone calls
and in-person conversations with several parents of the young people in the
confirmation preparation programme.‘What kind of crazy curate have you hired?,’ was the theme of these
conversations.The parents wanted their
kids to learn the answers about being an Anglican, about navigating the prayer
book and such, not plague their parents with uncomfortable questions about one’s
relationship with God!Fortunately, the
Rector supported me and the crisis was weathered.

For
far too long people, both religious and non-religious, have assumed that
religious life is about answers rather than exploring the questions of our
lives in the company of others.Some of
those others we can touch and see every day, while others we can only know
through their experiences as recorded in the Christian scriptures, in the
theologies and histories they wrote and in the stories of their own struggles
to live in relationship with the Holy One of Israel who sent the Word into our
midst and who continues to guide us through Holy Wisdom.

What
this fascination with ‘answers’ rather than a commitment to loving the
questions that our relationship with God raises has accomplished can be quickly
stated.On the one hand, it has led to
people leaving communities of faith when they begin to ask questions about the
tradition.Perhaps this is why so many
young people leave the church, not just because they become more and more
involved in various activities, but that we do not take their questions
seriously and compassionately nor do we share with them our own questions and
uncertainties.I once suggested a
replacement liturgy for confirmation; I called it the ‘Rite of
Questioning’.

When
a child turned twelve or thirteen, I suggested that we invite them forward
during the eucharist for a very brief ceremony.I would begin by telling them the story of Saint Thomas.Then I would say, ‘You are now entering a
time of your life when your job is to ask questions about everything, even
God.I ask you to make only one
promise.When you have a question about
God or Jesus or the Spirit or the church or anything else about the Christian
movement, I want you to promise that you will ask one of us first.We promise to take your question seriously
and to be honest when we do not have an answer or are unsure ourselves.Will you promise to do this?’No one has taken me up on this suggestion
yet.

On
the other hand, our fascination with answers rather than questions has given
rise to both conservative and liberal fundamentalisms.Fundamentalists have answers for all the
questions you or I may have about any aspect of our faith.Since fundamentalists rapidly lose patience
with people who have questions or doubts, they also contribute to the growing number
of people I mentioned above who leave the community of faith when they realize
they and their questions are not welcome.

I
love today’s story of Thomas; every time I hear it, I become more convinced
that the role of the Christian community is to embrace those who have questions
and those who have doubts.In this story
I see a model for our own times.The
apostolic community has just experienced the complete re-orientation of their
world and their expectations. Even
first-century people knew that no one rises from the dead, yet here in their
midst was Jesus, their teacher and, by his own words, their friend.That experience was not ‘an answer’ but an
invitation to live life in a new way, a way that would lead many of the early
community to the farthest boundaries of the world as they knew it.

Even
Thomas could not stay away from this community, despite his not having shared
their transformative experience on Easter.And he was welcomed into their midst, with all his doubts, with all his
questions.Why?Because even though the first witnesses to
the resurrection had seen Jesus, they also had doubts and questions.They also were uncertain as to what the
future might mean for them.But
together, doubter and witnesses, they could face that future.In prayer and study and conversation they
could explore what the resurrection meant for them and for the world in which
they lived.

I hope that we are just such a community that welcomes the questioner and the doubter, a community
that is willing to share our own uncertainties.But let us also be a community that is committed to following the way of
Jesus together, committed to the truth that God is not yet finished with us nor
with our world, committed to living compassionately, generously, courageously
even when we are uncertain as to what lies ahead.

As
the American expatriate author Gertrude Stein came to the end of her life, she
asked her long-time companion, Alice B. Toklas, ‘What is the answer?’When Toklas remained silent, Stein is said to
have laughed and said, ‘In that case, what is the question?’The life of faith is filled with questions
and we are rewarded, from time to time, with insights that satisfy our longing
for God and our longing for the coming of God’s promises.But it is in the courage to question within the community of faith and to welcome the questioner and the doubter that the
insights come.Amen.

On Easter Vigil, the Rev'd Christine Wilson, Deacon of Saint Faith's Vancouver and Pastoral Care Advocate of the Kerrisdale-Marpole Community Pastoral Resource Centre, preached at the Vigil jointly celebrated by the Parishes of Saint Faith and Saint Augustine.

When I was in grade 7, I went
swimming with a neighbour, a year or so older than I, at a local high school
pool.At that time my swimming skills
were minimal, but I enjoyed being in the water.I usually kept to the shallower end of the pool, never venturing close
to the 'drop off' where the deeper water began.

After being in the shallow end for a
while, my friend, who was a better swimmer than I, said he was going to the
deeper end of the pool.For reasons I
cannot remember, perhaps boyhood bravado, I followed him.He dove in and I did the same.He surfaced and I didn't.I knew that I was drowning, but I could not
prevent it.I panicked and struggled
without success towards the surface.Just as I was about to breathe in a lungful of water, a hand reached in
and pulled me to the surface.

When I recovered my senses, I looked
up at the face of my friend.He was
laughing.I think he said something clever
like, 'So, now you know what it means to get in over your head,' but all I
could think of was the fear.

In the years following I took a
number of swimming classes and improved my skills considerably.I knew that I would never be a great swimmer,
but I knew that I could survive long enough to reach safety with the smallest
shred of dignity!But my fear of water
was always there, perhaps a good fear, but fear nevertheless.

So you can imagine my parents'
surprise when, at the end of grade 10, I announced that I was joining the rest
of my Explorer post, the senior branch of scouting in the United States, for a
white-water rafting trip down the Yampa and Green Rivers in north-western
Colorado and north-eastern Utah.'Are
you sure,' my father asked, 'we're talking white water here not a pool!'

The trip was glorious through
canyons very similar to the Grand Canyon.Two days before the trip ended, we prepared to navigate the roughest
rapids on the Green River.It was my
turn to be in the smallest raft, four Explorers and a guide in the stern.We planned our route, packed the raft and
waited for our turn to enter the rapids.The other larger rafts had already gone through the rapids and we could
hear the cheers of our friends.Their
plan was to tie up to the riverbank, take an easy climb to some high ground to
watch us pass through the rapids.

The time came for us to cast
off.We knew that we were to avoid the
centre of the rapids where there was a phenomenon that our guide simply called
'The Hole', a place where the water was travelling so fast and so powerfully
that it created a space that would swallow a small raft such as ours.

We had honed our skills in paddling
and knew how to follow the directions of the guide.We entered the rapids just as planned, but a
sudden bump sent a hard plastic storage container into the air and into the
head of our guide who was stunned by the impact.Without our guide to direct us since he was
the only one looking downriver, we were caught in the current and went directly
into 'The Hole'.

It swallowed us.Water washed over us.We clung on for our lives, literally.We knew that our life vests were no match for
the weight and power of the water.And I
thought, 'Well, this isn't as bad as the first time I drowned!'In fact, I was calm and peaceful.

Before we knew it, 'The Hole' spat
us out and we found ourselves on the surface of the river and floating towards
the riverbank where the other rafts were tied up.Our friends had raced down the hill when they
saw us pop out.They treated our guide's
head wound and they wisely left the other four of us sit in silence for about
an hour.

Fear is a real force in our
lives.Sometimes it is healthy and
protects from harm.But sometimes it
prevents us from becoming who we are truly meant to be and to become.Sometimes fear arises from within us, perhaps
springing up from a deep source of hurt, uncertainty or unhappy memory.Sometimes fear comes upon us from external
sources as a means of influencing and controlling us.

Twice in today's gospel we hear the
words, 'Do not be afraid.'The first
time they are spoken, they are spoken by the angel to the brave women who risk
arrest and possible death to visit the tomb where Jesus was laid.The angel then reveals to them that Jesus has
been raised from the dead and that they must share this message with the
disciples.They become the apostles to
those who would later be called 'the' apostles.

The second time the women hear these
words, they hear them from Jesus.This
time, however, there is a difference.It
is not the fear of arrest or of death they face; it is the fear of sharing a
message, a message that will change their lives and the lives of others.They will have to tell the disciples that the
world is not what they thought it was.The power of death has been broken.The most powerful empire the world has known cannot silence a
Palestinian rabbi who preaches peace, compassion and self-giving.Who is going to believe these women?Why would they risk ridicule and accusations
of hallucinations and so-called 'women's fantasies'?

But these women have learned how to
swim in these waters.They know that
they are entering rapids that are powerful and will carry them far beyond any
expectations they may have had of what life would be.They may be afraid, but they know that
courage is not the absence of fear but the choice to carry on despite one's
fears.

My friends, on this Easter we awake
to a world in which fear is all around us.Some of this fear has reasonable causes:political unrest, environmental change, economic crises.Such fears have the power to control our
lives and the lives of other communities throughout the world.We can become paralyzed and simply await the
coming catastrophe passively, whatever form is it supposed to take.Just let the fear wash over us like the white
waters of the Green River, taking us down into the deeps.

But those who have heard the message
of the Resurrection have the same vocation as the women who went to the tomb so
long ago.We have good news to proclaim
to the poor and to the rich, to neighbours, friends and families.We have a message to share, a message that
can help people navigate the turbulent waters of this life with justice, with
compassion and with our sisters and brothers, whether of our faith or not.

We proclaim that Jesus of Nazareth
is not dead, simply a person of the past whose dust has mixed with the soil of
ancient Palestine.We dare to say that
Christ is risen and that he continues to achieve God's purposes for us and for
all of creation through communities of faith such as ours, some larger, some
smaller, some able to practice their faith freely, some only able to do so
covertly.

These communities bring good news to
the oppressed, those who oppressed by their riches as well as those oppressed
by their poverty.These communities
bring healing to those who are broken in body, mind and spirit.These communities break the bonds of those
who are held in prisons, whether those prisons are made of concrete and steel
or made of the hurts and fears that imprison the heart and the soul.

But these communities, especially
those in North America, are often afraid to share this good news.We are uncertain of how our message will be
received and how our friends, neighbours and families will think of us.The generous, compassionate and
future-oriented Christian faith in which many of us have been raised and
nurtured is overshadowed by our wider society's perception that all Christians
are narrow, judgemental and living in some mythical past.So long as we remain silent, so long as we
keep our story entre nous, this false
perception will take the day.

Friends, Christ has died, Christ is
risen, Christ will come again!The
powers of his world and time that feed on fear are active in our own world and
time.But they cannot overcome the life
that is Christ's --- and that is ours in Christ.The message that these powers sought to
silence two thousand years ago cannot be silenced for it is the Song of the One
who made all things, it is the 'deep magic' that is at work around us, in us
and through us.

Just as the women left the garden
and entered into the fast-flowing river of their time, daring to share with the
world the message of the Resurrection, let us go forth into our river, into our
rapids, facing our fears and sharing the good news of God in Christ.

My sisters and brothers, do not be
afraid.'Goodness is stronger than evil;
love is stronger than hate; light is stronger than darkness; life is stronger
than death; victory is ours through Jesus who loved us.'(Desmond Tutu as quoted in Janet Morley, ed.,
Bread
for Tomorrow:Prayers for the Christian
Year 1992, 117).Amen.

Yesterday I received a telephone call from a care facility I regularly visit and celebrate the Eucharist. A resident is dying and the family wanted to know if I would come and anoint her today. It turns out she attended Saint Faith's in the 1960's. Since the rite in The Book of Alternative Services is not liturgically robust, I found that I needed to edit a rite for this occasion using resources from various Anglican sources.

So, on this Holy Saturday, when God's Beloved rests in the tomb awaiting the Resurrection, I share with you my work.

About Me

Richard is a presbyter of the Anglican Diocese of New Westminster with a number of responsibilities. He is Rector of Saint Faith's Anglican Church in Vancouver. Richard is also the Principal Consultant for Liturgy Pacific, a worship consultancy providing educational seminars and resources for congregational life and ministry. After 23 years as a member of the faculty of Vancouver School of Theology, Dr Leggett became Professor Emeritus of Liturgical Studies in 2010. Since 1989 Dr Leggett has served on various national committees of the Anglican and Evangelical Lutheran churches in Canada and is a regular participant in the work of the International Anglican Liturgical Consultation. From 2010 to 2016 he was a Member of the Liturgy Task Force of the Anglican Church of Canada.